


Angus McDonald and the Case of the Replaced Reclaimer

by scribefindegil, thesnadger



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Pain, and then eventually comfort and silliness, but first a lot of pain, canonical major character undeath?? idk man, ep 57 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 20:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10047809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribefindegil/pseuds/scribefindegil, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesnadger/pseuds/thesnadger
Summary: The Bracers of Balance track where members of the Bureau at all times. So what’s a boy detective to do when he sees three Reclaimers enter Wonderland and only two come out? More importantly, what’s he to think when all three of them show up a day later?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Griffin almost certainly doesn't remember that he once said that the bracers function as Fantasy GPS Locators. But we do! So here's a version of the Reclaimers' homecoming that takes that into account (. . . and ignores Barry Bluejeans because this is not a fic about big plot stuff, this is a fic about how much we love our small boy detective and why everyone should hug him.)

Angus pushed his glasses up his nose and sighed. He’d been trying to read the same paragraph for five minutes, but none of the words would stick in his head. His brain had decided that it didn’t care about this report on the history of the Felicity Wilds, and he wasn’t having much luck convincing it otherwise.

He stole a glance across the room to where the Director sat at her desk, shuffling through a pile of scrolls. The dinner tray that Davenport had brought in an hour ago sat next to her, untouched. Angus suspected that she was having as much trouble concentrating as he was.

There just wasn’t anything they could  _ do _ , that was the problem. If the Stones of Far Speech came back online Angus would be able to offer advice or look things up or provide emotional support. If the locators in the bracers started working again they could ready one of the spheres. If they had any sort of contact, any information at all, the world’s greatest detective was ready to spring into action! But for now they were just . . . waiting. 

He lowered his eyes back to the page. The words looked like they were swimming in front of him. 

And then, suddenly, a soft chime broke the silence.

Angus jumped. The Director swept an armload of scrolls onto the floor, uncovering her scrying glass. It was the one she had spent hours staring into after the Reclaimers left for Wonderland. It had tracked their movements as they landed in the Felicity Wilds, and then gone dark. The Director hadn’t seemed surprised, but she’d held onto it anyway, looking into the empty crystal as if she could will the signal back to life.

The glass was an oval of smooth quartz set into a silver handle, and as Angus rushed around the side of the desk he saw a faint light shining in its center.

“Ma’am! Ma’am, are they--”

The Director didn’t answer him, but she held the glass out so that he could watch as the lens fogged over, and then slowly cleared to display a map of Faerun with a bright point of light in one corner. 

Something similar had happened when the Reclaimers went to Refuge. Angus remembered the scrying glass freezing and glitching as the temporal bubble interfered with the signal. It took a while for the display to reboot, zooming in on the signal from the Reclaimers’ bracers until it had pinpointed their location.

He turned to the Director, and this time she met his eyes and returned his smile.

“They did it,” she said, softly, as if she were talking to herself. “They really did it.”

“I’m not surprised at all, Ma’am!” Angus replied. “I mean, the three of them faced down a time bubble, killer robots, giant crabs and all sorts of nefarious creatures and characters! And they’ve never let us down before! Heck, I bet they’re headed back right now with the Animus Bell and probably a whole handful of stories to tell!”

“I suppose so… It seems they keep defying my expectations. In one way or another.” The Director shook her head and placed two fingers on the scrying glass, spreading them apart to allow her to zoom in on the signal. 

“I gotta admit, I was really worried when their signal went dark,” Angus said. “I mean, I know that all sorts of things can interfere with it--anti-magic fields, resonances from arcane artifacts, an aarakocra flying into a signal tower--but still! It’s such a relief to know that they’re okay, and that . . . .”

Angus trailed off. The Director was frowning, shifting the glass in her hands as if she wasn’t sure what she was seeing was right.

“What is it?” Angus asked.

He leaned forward, peering into the glass. It was focused on a path in the Felicity Wilds. Moving along that path were two points of light. Bright, and shining, and alone.

“Is . . .” Angus swallowed. “Is the signal still spotty? Is that it?”

The Director swiped her fingers across the glass. The image zoomed in. There were still only two points of light.

“Is it . . .” Angus frowned. “I know how temperamental magical spells can be! I’m sure it’s just . . .”

The Director sat back in her chair, laying the scrying glass down onto her desk. Her back was ramrod-straight and her face was completely expressionless.

“Ma’am?”

She wasn’t looking at Angus. She didn’t seem to be looking at anything, just staring blankly ahead. Then something about her expression changed, and she seemed suddenly smaller. Like something inside of her had crumpled.

“Of course it was him,” she said, very quietly.

Angus could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he snatched the glass up off the desk. It was zoomed in so far that all it displayed was a short section of path and the two points of light. And, next to the lights, their identifying information. Merle Hitower Highchurch. Taako Taaco.

“. . . Where’s Magnus?”

It wasn’t the sort of question that the world’s greatest detective should be asking, but for a moment Angus was too afraid to be anything except a little boy. He wanted the Director to tell him that there had been some mistake, that he was reading things wrong or that there was a good reason that Magnus wasn’t with the others, or . . . something, anything, because otherwise . . .

But she didn’t say anything, only squeezed her eyes shut and hung her head.

“We can’t jump to conclusions!” Angus found himself saying. He knew it was him saying it because he could hear his own voice, but it sounded strange and high and far away. “That’s what detecting is about, making sure you have all the information so that you don’t just assume that the obvious solution is the right one! Maybe his bracer broke, or, or maybe there’s some powerful magic that just makes it look like he isn’t there, or maybe he’s just . . . just following them! Maybe he stopped to help someone or engage in some well-intentioned but fundamentally misguided prank and he’ll be along any minute! M-maybe . . .”

The Director had raised a hand to cover her mouth and her eyes were still shut, but as his voice broke she reached out with one arm and pulled him close to her. Angus opened his mouth to start listing other possible explanations, but instead a choked sob came out. The Director’s arm tightened around him, and he buried his face in her robe, his tears staining the blue fabric and muddling all his excuses.

“It...it isn’t…” Angus managed, after a few minutes of silence. “The others wouldn’t leave him behind.”

The Director didn’t answer for a while. When she did, it was without conviction. “They might not have had a choice.”

Angus shuddered, clinging to the soft fabric of the Director’s robes. There was something in her voice that he decided he didn’t want to investigate. Didn’t want to uncover what was behind it. He took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes...his nose was stuffy from crying already. If the others could see or hear him . . . .

Angus straightened up and pulled away. That was it. If they were back online, their Stones of Far Speech must be working again. He tugged at the thin leather cord around his neck, pulling his own stone out from under his vest and flipping the switch at the back to turn it on.

“Sirs?!” His voice was cracking, and he tried to get control of it. “Sirs? Are you--are you there? You’ve been offline for a while, are you there?”

He heard something muffled and indistinct coming back through the Stone of Far Speech, and he held it up to his ear, but it was impossible to make out.

“Sirs?!” He tried again. “I can’t hear you, are you--are you all okay? Can you hear m--”

A horrible shriek of feedback came through, and the Stone of Far Speech went dead. Angus stared at it. He turned it over, flipping the switch at the back again and again. Nothing.

“Angus . . .” The Director laid a hand on his shoulder. He ignored it. Maybe if he tried the switch just once more . . .

“Angus. They . . . may not be willing to talk just yet. You have . . . no idea what things they’ve had to face in Wonderland, and I hope you never do.” Her fingers tightened and he saw her glance briefly at the portrait on the back wall. “When Merle and Taako do return, I’m going to need you . . . they’re going to need all of us to give them time.”

Angus nodded mutely. The inside of his head felt sore, all jumbled and empty at the same time, and he didn’t trust himself with words.

He put the stone away in his pocket.

* * *

_ All charges against Limon Kessler and associates to be dropped, _ the notice read.  _ Charm spell was cast by undercover associate of Rockport Militia. Associate of Kessler was quoted as saying they were “super sorry about almost murdering Tom Bodett,” and offered a hand-carved duck as compensation for any trouble caused. _

Lucretia sighed and slipped the notice into the file at the corner of her desk. It held a small collection of letters, photographs, and accounts from Battlefest attendees that mentioned Magnus directly. She’d barely been at this for an hour, and already she felt almost too drained to continue.

“Madam Director?” Avi’s voice came from the door. “...They’re back. The bubble will be arriving in the hangar soon.”

“Thank you. I’ll be there in just a moment.”

She stood and looked down at the papers spread before her. This could wait. Boyland’s had taken months to assemble, and there was no need to ready everything now. She took her staff from its place beside her desk and made her way to the hangar.

A small crowd had already gathered in the dome outside the entrance. After seeing Angus back to his room the previous night, she’d announced to the Bureau that she would be greeting the Reclaimers alone when they returned. She hadn’t mentioned why. Perhaps, deep down, a part of her childishly hoped that until she made the news public there was still room for it to be untrue. Still a chance. 

Even taking into consideration that she was twenty years younger than she looked, a woman her age should know better.

The crowd parted to let her through. No one spoke. Maybe they could tell. Maybe they, too, hoped that if they didn’t ask her about whatever she was keeping from them it could be averted somehow.

As she approached the door to the hanger, Angus stepped out of the crowd. His eyes were red and puffy; he’d probably gotten as little sleep that night as she had. He didn’t speak either, but he didn’t fall back with the rest of them. He followed her to the door and then stood next to her, his face a mixture of pleading and defiant.

The door opened, and the Director stepped though. Angus came with her. She probably shouldn’t have let him; who knew what other things the Reclaimers had lost in Wonderland? She didn’t want to make this meeting any more difficult than it had to be. But the boy already knew the worst of it, and at least his motives were simple. He didn’t need to worry about how this loss would affect the search for the final Relic, or how long the Bureau could afford to wait for the remaining Reclaimers to recover before it needed to send them back into the field. He just wanted to see his friends again. They deserved that, someone whose only concern was to offer them comfort.

The top of the dome parted, and the bubble began to descend. The glass was frosted over--ice crystals that formed once the craft reached higher altitudes--making it impossible to see through. She steeled herself as the door opened. Whatever she saw, she would have to be steady, and she would have to be calm. She owed them that much, at least.

Taako exited first, looking deeply exhausted. There was a heaviness in his eyes that hadn’t been there previously. And something else was wrong...he looked just slightly off in a way she couldn’t pinpoint. Something was missing that had always been there, just outside her notice. She couldn’t say what it was Wonderland had taken from him, but she sensed its absence all the same. 

Merle followed, the patch over one eye a screamingly obvious presence in contrast to whatever change had come over Taako. When he turned to face her, she noticed the color had drained from the one eye he had remaining.

And then Magnus stepped out from behind them. 

For a moment, the Director was gone. The calm, steadfast gaze, the regal posture, all of it fell away and there was only Lucretia, still younger than the face she wore, still young enough to be surprised. A sound burst out of her, stuck halfway between shock and laughter as she saw the face of a man she'd thought was dead. He was alive. Magnus was alive and standing only a few feet away from her.

Then her eyes fell to the bracer on his left arm, and she froze. No. The bracer was whole, and undamaged, and . . . a lie. This whole scene was a lie. No matter how much she wanted to believe it, no matter how much she wanted to accept the miracle in front of her, she couldn’t. Because it wasn’t a miracle. She didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t what it looked like.  _ He _ wasn’t what he looked like.

Angus, clearly not seeing that anything was wrong, had already run past her and towards Magnus, arms wide, excitedly babbling about how glad he was to see him, how scared he’d been and how he’d never given up hope. But Magnus didn’t move to embrace the boy. Instead he took a wary step back, almost reflexively, as if backing away from a snarling animal. Taako and Merle intercepted Angus, catching him up before he could reach...reach whoever it was that stood behind them. Not Magnus, certainly not Magnus. And the other two...they were hastily making excuses. She barely registered the words they were saying to him...something about Magnus having had a hard day and not being up for a hug. Which would be transparent nonsense even if she didn’t catch the stammer in Taako’s voice or the way Merle avoided eye contact. They were lying. They were making excuses for that thing that was wearing their friend’s image. Why?

There were a thousand possibilities, but two things were certain. That thing was not Magnus. And she could not trust the Reclaimers. She raised her staff and directed a spell at the three of them, restraining them before they could do any more damage.

***

Angus gasped as the Director raised her staff and sent a crackling bolt of light shooting past him, freezing the Reclaimers in place. He spun around, mouth agape. What was she doing? Why would--

“Angus,” said the Director levelly, “Get away.” She still had her staff outstretched, ready to strike, and her eyes were fixed on the three Reclaimers behind him. Specifically, they were fixed on Magnus.

“Ma’am, what . . . what’s going on?” It wasn’t surprising that she’d be suspicious after last night, but this wasn’t suspicion, this was aggression and coldness and . . . fear. He could tell from the set of her face and how heavily she was breathing. He’d seen the Director upset before, he’d seen her angry, but he’d never seen her frightened. Not like this.

“I need you to step away from them right now, and then I need you to leave.”

Angus looked at the Director. Then he looked at the three figures that had just stepped out of the bubble. He swallowed.

“No.”

“Look at the bracers, Angus. That man, if it is a man, is an imposter. I know how much you want it to be Magnus, but it isn’t. It can’t be.”

The bracers . . . he hadn’t even noticed. He’d been too distracted, too overwhelmed.

“Well . . . ma’am, I think maybe we should try talking to them first! I’m sure they’ve got a good reasonable explanation for why Magnus stopped showing up in the scrying glass.”

“Oh yeahhh,” said Taako. “That. Well, funny story. See, uh, Magnus, he--”

“He got kissed by a witch,” Merle butted in. There was a pause while the other two stared at him, and he added, “What? It’s obviously a common problem!”

“Forget what he just said,” Magnus--Angus still hoped it was Magnus--said. “Look, I, uh. We ran into some trouble in Wonderland. Obviously.” He paused. “There was this flying electrified direbear we were fighting, and I was, uh, just doing a really good job fighting it in general. But then it bit me on the arm, like, right on the bracer? And I think it uh…” He looked pleaddingly at Taako.

“Short-circuited it.” Taako finished. “Direbears, am I right? ...Is it too late to say that it broke on its own?”

The Director glared at the three of them, then gestured to Angus. “You see? They can’t be trusted. Now step back.” Her voice was firm, and the hand that held her staff was steady, but Angus saw a tremor in the hand that she was gesturing with. “I will get to the bottom of this. Go back to your room and wait.”

Angus glanced at the others. Magnus was still straining against the invisible force that held him against the wall, while the others hung limply. He turned back to the Director and planted his feet.

“...I can figure this out.” he told her. “I can find out what’s going on here.”

The Director sighed heavily. “I’m afraid you’re too close to to be objective here. This...isn’t work for a boy your age, however gifted.”

“That’s what you said about the necromancer gang who kept taking out your Seekers in Waterdeep, but if it hadn’t been for my research on the forensics of blood magic you might still be looking for the culprits!”

“Angus . . . .”

“And what about the mystery of the invisible roc? You said it was uncrackable, but after three days on the case, I’d solved it!”

“I’m not doubting your abilities . . . .”

“Then with all due respect, Madam Director, you hired me to investigate problems relevant to the Bureau of Balance. So--so I think that you ought to let me do my job!”

His words echoed around the hangar before being replaced by stony silence. His head hurt from shouting and crying and all the emotions that were screaming for attention, but he pushed them all back and stood his ground, staring defiantly at the Director. For a moment he was afraid he’d gone too far, and then she sighed.

“Your emotional attachment--”

“Is a problem! I know!” And now he’d actually interrupted the Director, which would probably send him into a panic attack if he stopped to think about it, so he didn’t. “But I’m also emotionally attached to Carey and Killian and Noelle and . . . and you, Madam Director! The Bureau is my home now and I . . . I want to keep it safe. So I promise, if I finish my investigating and I think that these three will put any of you in danger, I’ll help you take them in, and I won’t rest until whoever hurt the real Reclaimers is brought to justice!” He was breathing heavily and he wanted to cry again, but he wouldn’t let himself. Not now. His friends needed him.

“But Director, don’t you think that if someone was trying to infiltrate us, and they were good enough to make a fake Magnus that looked exactly like the real thing, they would at least think to get their story straight first? I mean, they must know you would ask. It’s a real rookie mistake, so either these enemies are a lot less competent than they seem . . .” He took a deep breath. “Or they really are Taako and Merle and Magnus and they’re trying to hide something and doing a laughably bad job at it, just like they always do. I . . . I know I can figure it out.”

The Director was silent for a moment, then she nodded, very slightly. “...All right,” she said. “I suppose...it would only be sensible to give you a chance. Perhaps you can find something I would be unable to.” After a moment, she spoke again. Quietly this time, barely audible. “And perhaps...my own emotional attachments are getting in the way.”

Angus knew better than to let on that he’d heard that. Instead, he straightened his cap and turned back towards the Reclaimers. Or, well. Back towards the other three. If he was going to do this, he would have to think like Caleb Cleveland, Kid Cop. Be objective and look at the evidence in front of him. His job wasn’t to prove that these three were the real Reclaimers. It was to figure out whether they were or not.

He could do this. He’d collared his first serial killer when he was eight. By comparison this should be a breeze, right?

“Magnus,” he said. “If you really are Magnus . . . .”

“I am. But go on,” Magnus said.

“Which is my favorite Caleb Cleveland book, and why?”

Magnus looked askance at the other two Reclaimers. “Aw, come on, Ango. Really?”

“Answer the question, Sir!”

Taako looked like he’d tried to lean over and elbow Magnus in the ribs before realizing he was still being held in place, so he just looked sideways and his arm strained briefly against his magical bonds.

“Hey Mango, you read those kid books?”

“They were gifts!” Magnus protested. “It would be rude not to.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Your favorite is  _ The Case of the Missing Mimic  _ because it was the first time you figured out the answer before Caleb did.”

Angus nodded. He’d been five when he read the book, and he still remembered the thrill he’d felt when all the pieces came together.

“Okay, that’s a good start. Um . . .Okay, a few weeks ago there was a fire in the arboretum that Magnus said was caused by a lantern being accidentally kicked over. What really caused it?”

“I--do all the questions have to be embarrassing?” Magnus said. “Fine, fine. I saw you fiddling with something behind a bush and was gonna sneak up and noogie you. But when I got close I saw you’d found a whole family of giant monster-spiders _.” _

“Jumping spiders!” Angus corrected. “Of the genus  _ hyllus. _ They’re very rare on the moon!”

“You were  _ touching _ them.” Magnus added with disgust.

“And what happened then? I warn you, be honest!”

Magnus sighed. “I  _ might _ have gotten a little freaked out. And...after a  _ very manly _ scream, I might have overreacted and tried to burn down the arboretum for a minute. Only for a minute. You, uh, talked me out of it.”

The other two Reclaimers snickered and Angus nodded again.

“Go on, keep going.” Magnus said. “I can do this all day. How much do I have to say before I prove I’m really Magnus?”

“Well…I mean. It’s a good start and all, but it’s not necessarily proof. There’s still a number of ways someone could get that information out of Magnus, both magical and mundane. Besides, you’re obviously still hiding something. Unless the three of you want to tell me the truth right now.”

Magnus looked down at the floor. The other two averted their eyes. Merle whistled pointedly.

“That’s what I thought.” Angus considered carefully. Magnus was the one whose bracer had stopped giving off a signal. But Taako and Merle wouldn’t be siding with a monster pretending to be their friend. Which meant that either this was really Mangus, the same Magnus he’d always known, or Taako and Merle were just as suspect. Maybe they were brainwashed, or maybe they were fakes as well. He couldn’t rule it out if he was going to be thorough. Besides...he’d need more information than little secrets. To start, he’d need a big one.

“Taako.” Angus said, turning to the wizard.

“Hmm? Yeah, how’s it going?” Taako replied.

“You told me something a while ago, during a magic lesson. Something that I think . . .you usually don’t talk to people about. Something from your past.”

Angus saw Taako’s eyes go wide, and his neck--the only part of his body that could still move freely--go stiff. He looked nervously to the side. “Uh...eheheh...look, uh, you caught me. I was young and needed the money, and I was assured that any nudity would be tasteful--”

“Don’t worry,” Angus said, cutting him off. “I’m not going to make you say what it was. But . . .I do want to ask you, why did you tell me? I mean. You obviously don’t like talking about it. So . . .why me?”

Taako went quiet. The relief in his face slowly melted into blankness, and he turned his head in an imitation of a shrug. 

“Well. Because you asked,” he said, his voice calm and quiet. “You asked me why I don’t cook for people more. And nobody’s ever asked that.”

Angus nodded. Well...that...that at least ruled out a few possibilities. He turned and approached Merle.

“I swear--” Merle gritted his teeth, anger in his voice. “If you say  _ one word _ \--”

“I know, I know.” Angus waved his hand dismissively. “Adamantium spanner. But I don’t really need you to tell me any secrets like that. I mean, Taako pretty much proved that if you  _ are _ fakes, you’re fakes that have access to all of your memories. Which makes sense, because I’m pretty sure no one could come even close to recreating the completely preposterous way the three of you act unless they knew you pretty well.”

“Mmmnph,” Merle grunted.

“I just have one question for you, Merle. Do you like me?”

Merle stared at him. Actually, everyone stared at him when he said that. That was fine. Angus waited for a response.

“Is...this one of those trick questions?” Merle asked.

“Nope. I just want you to answer honestly. How do you feel about me? I wouldn’t expect this to be a hard one to answer.”

“I mean you’re supposed to be the kid detective here, was the little speech about the Adamantium Spanner too subtle?” Merle said. 

“Maybe,” Angus replied.

“Well, I’ll tell you how I feel about you--I think you’re a massive pain in the kiester. And….” He hesitated, gritting his teeth. “And you’re too nosy for your own good. And…” he sighed. “And, fine. Maybe I like you a little bit. Just a little. Not too much.”

“Ha!” Magnus yelled from behind him. “I knew it!”

“Ooooooh!” Taako said. “Merle likes Angus! Merle likes Angus! Hey Magnus, why don’t you get out your pocket workshop and carve some friendship bracelets for these BFFs over here?”

“I’ve changed my mind, I hate all of you,” Merle said.

“Agnus…” the Director’s voice came from behind him. “Please tell me you’re not using this as an excuse to work out your interpersonal issues. This is serious.”

“I know, Madam Director!” Angus chirped, “But this is real evidence! I mean, anyone making a fake Merle who’d been studying his behavior and his constant threats and harassment of me would come to the conclusion that he probably doesn’t like me at all! But I know that the real Merle has been coming around, granted, at a frustratingly slow pace. Still, it’s evidence!”

The Director raised an eyebrow, staff still extended in front of her. “...Very well. Carry on, I suppose.”

Angus nodded and turned back to the Reclaimers. It was hard to believe at this point that they could be anyone besides the same three people he’d come to know over the past year. Even if something happened, even if they were hiding something, there was no known magic or technology that could make facsimiles as real as they were. That only left one question . . .if these really were Taako, Magnus and Merle...were Taako, Magnus and Merle really trustworthy?

“Magnus? I’ve got one more question for you.” Angus said. He considered a moment, then remembered that day at Battlefest, and the perfect question came to him. “What makes someone a champion? What makes someone...a real hero?”

Magnus was quiet, which was a surprise. He’d expected an immediate response, and for a moment he felt doubt creeping into his mind. Then Magnus spoke.

“A hero…” Magnus paused, glancing at the others, then looked back at Angus. “I think...a hero is someone who’s willing to sacrifice what’s important to them . . .to save what’s important to other people.”

Angus smiled. He’d heard all he needed to hear. “Ma’am?” he asked, turning back to the Director. “Would you let Magnus go, please?”

She stared at him for a moment, then turned to look Magnus in the eye. “If you hurt him . . .”

“I won’t,” said Magnus, and at the same time Angus said, “Then you’ll have proof that you were right. And you can freeze him again, and . . . nobody will get hurt except me.”

Slowly, reluctantly, the Director spoke a word of power and gestured with her staff. Taako and Merle were still restrained but Magnus slumped forward, released from his bonds.

Angus took a few careful steps towards him, holding out his hand. It was Magnus, he was sure now, but . . . something was still wrong. Something had happened that had make his bracer stop functioning, that had made the other two intercept Angus’s attempt at a hug. 

Even now, Magnus took a step away from Angus before he sighed, and straightened up, and reached out his hand. 

Angus grabbed it. He was tired of waiting and worrying and theorizing. He had to  _ know _ .

The hand he was holding was . . . wrong. It was cold and hard as stone, and the fingers that Angus could feel were thinner than the ones he could see. It wasn’t a flesh-and blood hand, not Magnus’s hand, not his body, but it was still somehow Magnus inside it. It was a miracle, and it was horrible, and . . .

“What . . .” he whispered. His voice cracked, and he tried again. “What happened to you, sir?”

He’d considered that something like this might have happened, as he’d lain awake the previous night alternately crying and coming up with fresh lists of excuses. One of his favorite co-workers was a soul in a robot body; he knew that things like this were possible. But now he was feeling the evidence of it, and it was more than he could bear.

“Well,” said Magnus, looking helplessly at Taako and Merle. “I . . . I lost my body. But these two idiots decided that I wasn’t allowed to die just yet, so . . . here I am.”

Angus squeezed his hand as tightly as he could. He could feel tears welling up, tears of sorrow because Magnus had nearly died (had . . . actually died depending on your definition), and tears of joy because he was still there anyway, still talking and moving and . . .

Seeing Angus’s face, Magnus moved to pull his hand away, but Angus dove forward and threw his arms around his friend’s waist. It felt strange, like hugging a chair, but it didn’t matter. He buried his face in the familiar armor and sobbed. And, slowly, he felt a pair of stiff arms close in around him and hug him back. They were too hard and too gentle, but they were there. Magnus was there.

Behind him, he heard the soft scrape of wood on metal as the Director finally lowered her staff. A moment later, he felt Taako’s hand on his shoulder and looked up. The other two were standing beside them. He turned to face the Director, and to his surprise, there was a faint smile on her face.

“Well, boys.” She sighed. “You clearly have some explaining to do.”

“That’s fine,” Magnus said, his voice oddly stern. “But we have some questions for you too. If you want answers, you’ll have to give us some answers of your own.”

The Director paused, then slowly nodded. “I will . . . do my best. Hopefully, we can work something out. Come with me to my office, and we’ll talk.”

“I’m coming too. Ma’am. Please,” Angus said.

The Director smiled at him. “I suppose you are. I think you’ve earned it.”

“All right, then,” Magnus said, and Agnus suddenly felt himself being lifted off the ground and held against the soft leather of Magnus’s featherweight cuirass. “Let’s get going.”

The crowd was still waiting outside the hanger when they left. Angus heard murmurs mixed with scattered cheers. It wasn’t the same as the receptions the Reclaimers had come home to in the past, but it was so, so much better than he’d feared it would be when he’d joined the crowd less than half an hour ago.

Angus didn’t look up. He was still sniffling despite his best efforts, and hearing the other Bureau employees cheering, not knowing how close they’d come to disaster, was the last straw. He clung to Magnus, burying his face in his shoulder and crying as quietly as he could.

Magnus shifted his grip to give him some privacy as they elbowed through the crowd, and used one hand to trace small, soothing circles on his back. A gust of cool air hit him as the exited the dome and started down the hallway to the Director’s office, and he lifted his head, wiping at his eyes.

Taako reached out wordlessly and stroked Angus’s hair as they walked, and Magnus smiled down at him, and Merle didn’t even threaten to murder him once. And after a long afternoon of being the World’s Greatest Detective, Angus decided it was nice to just be a little boy, who needed someone to carry him and to comfort him when he cried. Just for a little while.

“Hey--” 

He heard Taako’s voice coming from next to him, and felt something shift beside him. The Stone of Far Speech he’d stuck in his pocket the other night--he’d slept in his clothes, not very unusual for him nowadays--was slipping out. Taako caught it and passed it back to him.

“Better hang onto this. Don’t know what you’ll do with yourself if you can’t bother us all the time with your little whiz kid schtick.”

Angus smiled and slipped it back around his neck.


End file.
